The Case of the Missing "Shoose"

We got back from Philly a week ago, tired and grumpy (at least Mom was, anyway). She wore her favorite Josef Seibel sandals on the plane. She says they're the most comfy shoes she has. She LOVES them. She LIVES in them. Got them new on eBay probably five years ago for $39.99 (retail about $120). Blah blah blah. Stoopid shoes. That's all I hear. I could go for the rest of my life and not have to hear "Where's my shoose?" ever again.

Fast forward to ...hmmm....I think Tuesday. "Where's my SHOOSE?", she says. I shrug and crawl under the covers. Wednesday? "Where could my SHOOSE be?", she asks. I wander off over to my water bowl, rolling my eyes.

By Saturday she's dumping stuff out of her closet looking
for "Shoose". "Nope...nope...not there!" This morning she's pulling out furniture saying "Here's one, but WHERE'S the other?". And she's getting bugged. She looks at me. "What?", I mutter. "What?"

Tonight, she says to me: "There's only ONE place I haven't looked".
"Uh oh!", I say, as she walks over to the closet she tosses her laundry in. I might add that this closet is my very private place and there's nothing I like better, when I want to get away from it all, than to curl up in the dirty laundry inside the dark closet.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!", she says, and gives me a dirty look.
"Well?", I explain. "A little taste of heel can be relaxing."

OK OK....it's just a teensy little piece or two out of the heel. With her foot in it nobody will notice. Much....hardly. See? Besides, these "shoose" are indestructible, pretty much. Picture peasant women trekking across the mountains of Hungary with water jugs balanced on their shoulders, wearing flowered dresses and bandanas around their heads. I imagine they'd be wearing their invincible Josef Seibel's with indestructible tire-tread like soles, too.



Enlarge the bottom photo and you can see for yourself. It's NO BIG DEAL. Just a couple of hunks out of the right heel. Little, tiny, itsy bitsy hunks.


To my way if thinking, it's just NOT something that Homeland Security should be called about. They're not like those uber-expensive cork soled shoose she bought for Hawaii and had to trash before even wearing them. That's the thing about cork. One nibble and a huge chunk comes off into your mouth. Yes, I learned my lesson about cork...the hard way.

I'm literally in the doghouse tonight, and best I should keep out of my mother's way. Gotta run...she's headed back to eBay to see if she can find another pair.

I AM SORRY! There...I said it. I will TRY not to do it again.

G'night for now...

Mary-Margaret "The Big Heel" O'Brien